A family matter?

Yes. It was only a family problem. Something I could resolve on my own. Without losing anything, I.. I could do it. It's what I convinced myself to think.

As a parent, and as a partner I have that right. After enduring, enduring, enduring, enduring-

I would become the hero. Drinking coffee during breaks and reporting mindlessly to management. The day to day didn’t get any easier physically, but mentally — the daily tasks began to blend. I started dozing off more and often saw him during work. It was my imagination, but I couldn’t help but believe it. The first time I’d kicked my desk and ruined the computer rushing to excuse myself to calm down. I held my chest and breathed raggedly. I suppose I thought that this office was safe from that painful silhouette. But more recently, I saw his death. Clearly, like it was meant to be. Even though I knew I shouldn't have the capability to do that, even though I was weak. I was drunk on it.

I tried to swear off the drink, but on days where I was running late or had to do overtime, it was too tempting. The rush of adrenaline as my heart was beating in my ears was always better than the rush of fear.

He sometimes appeared as black and white, partly in grey and on particularly hard occasions coloured.

Slowly dying, his breath would pause, and I observed easily. In hindsight, it was practice looking back now. Practice for the reality of things. Such is why "you shouldn't entertain such thoughts."

I pictured needles piercing his throat. I saw his intestines slimy in acid, heard gurgling and screams every time I felt more stressed. As it took more shades of reality, the difficulty of my life increased. I even felt happy for a while. A perverted kind of excitement, while skipping with a tiny bounce in my step. But I suppose it was pushing it, even for me. My story soon set in again as I nearly got run over. The driver didn’t even apologise... afterwards, that stopped occurring. It was because I realised no matter how realistic the idea was it ultimately, like escaping was my imagination.

For example, I actually had a curfew. Isn't that funny? Wasn't I an adult. I thought while staring at the evening sky, I hadn't relaxed for a long time as I sat down on the bench, watching as the clouds pass by for a bit. I heard that compared to other countries, Korea was quite friendly with public seating and the like. I wouldn't know. Well, there was the internet, but I wanted to see it for myself. I laughed. Wasn’t I outside right now? What was this..

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I hadn't experienced it for a long time. My child, I or even that always drunk fool. None of us truly got to experience this world. That's why I.

My thoughts scattered as I looked at the sky.

With some luck involved, we could escape. I wanted to go on some trips abroad as well or sip a little soju. My cracked wonder supported me. Those tiny, small fragments were cutting into my reason, my logic, my feelings, my emotions.

It bled and the scatters spoke to me.

The streets were busy, with the blaring honking of cars and buses. The roar of the train could be heard if I took the steps closer to the bridge. After that there were bright colourful sets of shops, one after the other. From department stores I often visited to longer down the lane of Gongju Supermarket, to the reception where my son was attending.

Because of that, I had to live. I chose to live on. I would keep choosing to live. Since in the depths of my story there would be a child. A child that would have a deeper, longer and everlasting trauma because of me. So, I had to live. Even if I couldn’t find a next.

I also had memories here. I survived till now, and so—

I would write the next sentence.

It was Mother’s sincerity, Dokja.

I wanted both of us to live on, therefore I had to confront the anxiety of yesterday and tomorrow. Yes, from now I’d be more honest than anyone. When I arrived home, he wasn’t there. I got to be a little lazy, and microwaved leftovers while reading to him like usual. Curling up, his small figure napped quickly on the couch. Well, at least I didn’t need to make up an ending - the last pages were ripped out. I could never say I wanted these days to last forever. Still, I could write this.

I wouldn’t mind reading that moment over again.

The fading lamp made his face appear even more soft, and I pinched his cheeks gently. Black hair quickly fell in front of his short eyelashes. Yes, this was all I wanted. Quiet, simple and peaceful days like this forever. Pulling him into my chest, my blouse felt tighter while sighing. I couldn’t depend on anyone else in this world but myself. My eyes grew hot, and I mumbled a few times. Maybe I could go to the office..but I already signed off my rights. A women’s help organisation? That would be too lacking.

What would be the best outcome? What would’ve led to the ending I wanted? If there really was a God, I wanted to ask him that question. Why did humans have to suffer like this?

Why did I have to bear this story alone? Why..?

The lights were out and all I heard was soft breathing below me. My thoughts kept on twisting without end. Trying to think about something else was fruit- ah, my heels were kicked off and they were on opposite sides of the living room. He might get angry at that. I needed to get up, but the warmth lying on me was comfortable. Staring at the dull ceiling, my hands loosened around him.